


Prompt Fills

by Z_K



Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Food Kink, Food Porn, Gen, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Z_K/pseuds/Z_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the title suggests. Prompts sent via Tumblr. I write anything I'm asked for pertaining to Supernatural. Part one is for fairly tame fluff and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I defaulted to smut for this one.
> 
> Prompt; Debriel. Pies.

Gabriel sighed as he drizzled caramel sauce over the diced apples in the pie shell. Sometimes his boyfriend could be quite demanding. Apparently pies zapped into existence weren’t the same as properly made pies. So Gabriel had marched off to the kitchen to prove him wrong. He was slowly working on a cinnamon-caramel apple pie. Once it was done, he would, of course, zap another up, and have Dean try both. He could swear that the hunter wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Hell, he had bet a whole day without any sweets against it. He huffed again, because who was his hunter kidding, thinking this was a better way to do things?

Dean slipped into the kitchen to watch, making sure his lover wasn’t cheating and just materializing everything. He watched as Gabe worked, admiring the view from behind. Despite all the candy he fed his vessel, the archangel never looked anything less that fairly toned, with only a hint of softness at the middle. Not muscle bound like he and Sammie did, but just enough to look like he cared about his body. And damn did his angel have a nice ass. He almost choked on nothing when Gabriel dropped a piece of apple to the floor and bent at the waist to retrieve it before tossing it into the waste bin.

So when Gabe dipped a finger into the cinnamon-caramel sauce and slowly licked it clean, Dean couldn’t help but move forward, enveloping the digit in his mouth, sucking gently to finish the job Gabriel’s tongue had started. Gabriel was just staring at him, eyes slightly widening. Dean smirked, then grabbed the dough that would serve to cover the pie, and draped it over the thick shell and filling, pinching it down at the sides. He motioned towards it with his head, and Gabriel raised an eyebrow before picking it up and transferring it to the oven. When he had set the temperature and timer, he turned around, to find Dean with a finger in the sauce. He walked slowly to his lover, before licking it clean. He had closed his eyes to savour the sweet taste, and yelped as he felt some of the sauce being drawn across his cheek, quickly followed by a hot tongue. A groan escaped his lips as Dean pulled away, forest green eyes meeting gold.

Dean tossed on his best shit-eating grin before dripping more sauce onto Gabriel’s neck, using lips and tongue to clean it away, sucking lightly, and leaving a small hickey in his wake. Gabriel was groaning again when he pulled off, but was quickly distracted as Dean pressed sugary lips to his, the smaller man immediately opening up to the taste of cinnamon and caramel mixed with what was essentially Dean. The two kissed for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s tastes, before Dean stepped back and in one swift motion pulled Gabriel’s shirt off over his head, then removed his own.

Swiping his fingers back through the sauce he trailed his hand down his neck and across his chest. Gabriel needed no invitation, darting forwards to lick the sweet substance from his lover’s flesh. When he was done, he reached behind him to gather sauce onto his fingers, dabbing it liberally to each nipple, before sucking gently. Dean moaned, just as two caramel covered fingers were brought to his lips. He immediately took them into his mouth, sucking vigorously, twirling his tongue around and between them. Then Gabriel removed his fingers, and with a snap they were in the bedroom, and naked. The bowl of leftover sauce had made it there with them though.

Dean found himself pressed down onto the mattress, the scent of cinnamon and caramel heavy in the air as the sauce was drizzled down his chest. He hissed as it was poured generously over his cock and balls, the last of it being brought up to pool in the dip of his bellybutton. Gabriel set the bowl aside, then quickly set to work, lips, teeth and tongue lapping and sucking Dean clean. He took some time to swirl around his cock, teasing until the hunter was growling for contact. But instead Gabe dipped his head, mouthing at the taught balls, sucking gently to remove the sugar there.

Finally, he began to clear the sugar from Dean’s dick, tongue working in broad strokes from stem to tip, before he took it into his mouth in one swallow, sucking and swallowing to get his lover completely clean. Dean’s hand found its way to the back of his head, twining in his head and holding him steady as he began to work his hips.

Gabe spread his thighs apart, fingers delving under and between the cleft of Dean’s ass, coming to rest at the entrance to his lover, fingers already coated in lube. It was definitely a huge benefit to being an archangel. Lube at his convenience, but without the worry of a spilled bottle. He hesitated, about to lift his head to ask permission, but Dean’s hand clenched in his hair, keeping him in place, while pressing his ass against Gabriel’s fingers demandingly.

That was all the archangel needed, sliding his middle finger in slowly, working gently past the ring of muscle, crooking it slightly once he was in past the second knuckle. He knew he had found what he was looking for when Dean’s gasps and groans raised in volume. Smirking around Dean’s cock, Gabriel worked his lover open, all the while keeping up the gentle suction as Dean thrust into his mouth and throat.

After a short period for Dean’s body to adjust, a second finger worked its way it, scissoring and spreading, working him open with slow, practised movements. Finally, a third was added, and Gabriel crooked them again, hitting the prostate and making Dean tear his head off with a shout. “Gabe, please, need you.” Was all the bigger man could pant out. Gabriel removed his fingers, Dean whining at the loss of them, before his legs were tucked hooked over Gabriel’s arms, the angel positioning himself before slowly sliding in. Once he was to the hilt, he paused, letting his lover adjust.

When Dean began to move under him, he took that as his queue and pulled out almost all the way, before sliding back in gently. He worked in and out in languid, slow strokes, until the hunter grabbed his head, glaring at him. “Fuck me.” He growled out, grip tightening for a moment before letting his hand fall back to the bed. Gabe grinned, pulling out in small increments, making Dean reach for him again, before quickly thrusting in, hard and quick, making his lover gasp and groan. He repeated the action twice more before leaning forwards, and letting loose. He used only a fraction of his inhuman strength to pound into Dean, the young man gripping the sheets tight and shouting his pleasure to the ceiling.

When Gabe reached a hand between them, he barely had a hold of the hunter’s cock, just the slightest bit of pressure at the head, before Dean was coming, shooting white hot spunk across his stomach and chest. His body was seizing up, and Gabe could barely move against the tight contractions of muscle. Two short thrust later and he followed Dean over the edge.

The two lay sated, bathing in the after-glow. Gabriel snapped them clean, before pulling out slowly and curling into the crook under his hunter’s arm, flinging arms and legs across the taller man. Both were drifting off to sleep in the post-orgasmic haze, when the oven timer rang out. Dean was alert immediately. “Pie is ready!” Came the excited declaration. Gabe sighed, then got up and went to set the pie to cool.

When they both sat to eat the pie, Gabe didn’t even bother snapping up a second one. Dean raised an eyebrow at this. “What about the bet?” He asked. “No contest, clearly hand-made pies are better.” Gabe admitted, swiping a finger through the sauce oozing out of the side of his slice, before bringing it to his lips with a smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt; Calthazar, pillows, and pancakes. Fluff. :')

Castiel was brought out of his deep sleep by the feeling of something soft, but fairly dense hitting his face. ”Wake up Cassie!” Balthazar’s sing-song voice filtered through the room, making at Castiel groan at his innately cheerful lover.

Reaching up, he removed the down pillow from where it rested on his face, squinting in the early morning light. After taking a moment to glare at Balthy, he rolled over, shoving his face in the cool pillow, obviously his lover’s, because it was large and sinfully soft. He would never admit it, but he liked snuggling into Balthazar’s things, liked the way the scent of him lingered there, and enjoyed that everything Balthy owned was a reflection of his hedonistic lifestyle. Breathing deeply, his nose twitched. There was a sugary aroma in the air, overpowering his lover’s natural scent.

Turning his head back to face Balthazar, his eyes opened wide. Balthazar stood in the doorway holding a tea tray, but rather than tea, it was laden with a stack on pancakes, and several toppings.

His mind raced, and he remembered, vaguely, a mumbled conversation with Balthy a few night previous as he was falling asleep after a few strong drinks, about how nice it would be to have breakfast in bed. He was surprised his lover, who had had more to drink, remembered. He smiled up at Balthazar, and his lover sucked in a breath at how much it lit up his face.

Placing the tray down on the nightstand, Balthazar began cutting up the pancakes, diving them up before pouring various sauces and syrups on individual little piles. The then took his fluffy pillow and used it to prop Castiel up into a sitting position. He never spoke, simply gathering up a forkful and feeding his Cassie, watching as the younger man blissfully enjoyed the sweet morning treat.

After a few mouthfuls, Castiel reached up, placing a sticky, sugary kiss at the corner of Balthazar’s mouth. “Good morning. I love you.” He whispered quietly against his lover’s skin. Balthy stilled. They had never said the words before, named what had been building between them for months now. A slow smile spread across his face, as he turned slightly to press his lips to Castiel’s in a proper kiss. He drew away slightly, barely a hairs breadth between them, as he looked into deep blue eyes. “I love you too Cassie.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt; Calthazar

Balthazar ran his finger’s softly along Castiel’s spine, causing the younger angel to shiver, goosebumps raising along his back. The elder was swirling his fingertips around his shoulder blades, right near the junction of his little brother’s wings. For months they had danced around each other, drawing inevitably closer, moving through the emotional tides, swaying between friends and something just a bit more intimate.

The blonde hedonist leaned in to press a soft kiss where his fingers had been moments before, eliciting a quiet moan from his pale companion. His other hand moved to stroke along the smooth skin of his dearest brother’s side, tickling a little as he went, a small smile forming as the younger’s face tightened in an effort to hold in his giggle. The effort was for naught though as a massive pale gold wing lifted, drawing the very tips of its primary flight feathers along the same path the hand had taken.

This caused Castiel to squirm uncontrollably, the high-pitched giggle finally escaping his pursed lips at the wing’s second pass. His own wings, black as night, were stretched out to either side, one partially covering Balthazar’s lap. At his movements, the feathers ruffled and shifted, as if of their own accord. The blonde grinned wolfishly at him before teasing his way under the secondary wing coverts to tickle along the flesh that held the bases of Castiel’s secondary flight feathers. It was easily one of the most sensitive spots on his little brother’s wings, and it had the younger writhing in seconds.

Balthazar was laughing uproariously at Castiel’s predicament. But the black-winged angel, for all his shaking and giggling, never tried to move away, or ask his tormentor to stop. After a minute the blonde let him alone, moving to stretch out beside him, finger’s smoothing the ruffled feathers back into place. It took a moment for them to sort out their wings, but finally Castiel turned onto his side, so that they were facing each other, two massive set of wings flared out behind them.

It had taken months for the pair to get here. They weren’t lovers yet, but they could lay beside each other and share these casual touches, and loving moments, without the awkwardness that had pervaded the beginning of their mutual realization of their desire and love for one another.

Both angel’s smiled at each other, twining their hands together and curling close, resting their foreheads against each other. They spent several minutes just staring into each other’s eyes, willing themselves not to blink, to stay awake. But eventually sleep caught up with them. It had been a long week for both of them, chasing after the Winchester’s and dealing with the mess that was Heaven. Castiel drifted first, as Balthazar placed a feather-light kiss to his lips, before drifting off as well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt; Calthazar, third person pov, friends, brothers or something more?

It had started with Balthazar’s innuendos and hints towards a deeper, intimate knowledge of Castiel. Dean had shrugged it off as the angel making a joke. But Sam had seen the corners of Cas’s mouth twitch in the slightest hint of a smile for a brief moment. He caught the softening at the edges of Balthazar’s haughty persona as he glanced at his younger brother. He was pretty sure Balthazar wasn’t actually kidding. Because Sam knew as well as anyone, the best way to hide the truth was to tell someone, while making it sound absurd.

He tried to convince Dean, but his brother was almost totally blind when it came to that kind of thing. When Balthazar had saved them from Raphael Dean attributed it to nostalgia between friends. But now that Sam knew better, he could think back and remember the way Cas had stared after the elder angel once he was gone again, the longing shining clearly out of those big baby blues.

But there was still that niggling sense of doubt at the back of his mind. After all, they were brothers, and perhaps it really was just the connection of two friends who had thought each other lost? So what were they? Brothers, friends, or perhaps something a little more? Only the two of them truly knew.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt; How about some destiel angst either post 6x20 or 8x17?
> 
> Since I'm only up to 8x13, I went with post 6x20.

“Cas? CAS!” Dean shouted into the empty room. But there was no response. Why would there be? It was all falling apart. His angel couldn’t trust him to help, to find another way.

Castiel listened as the hunter called out for him. He had intended to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not yet. It had grown over their time together, the heavy warmth in his chest. But for the first time, there was no warmth. The weight remained though, worsened by the pain in Dean’s voice. It felt as though his heart was turning to lead. He didn’t understand why the feeling was changing so drastically. A small frown creased his brow as he thought on it.

“Cas…” Dean trailed off in a whisper, silently praying for the man, no, the angel, he had found himself loving. But what could he do? He couldn’t let Crowley get to Purgatory. And Castiel didn’t believe there could be another way to win the war in Heaven. His fists were pounding at the wall before he realized he was doing it. His knuckles were already bloodied and bruised. But he kept at it, kept punching, needing to feel the pain of it.

Blue eyes misted over at his friend’s anguish. He couldn’t make Dean understand. He had to do it, there was no other way. Nothing in the three planes of existence he has access too could help him. This was the only way. But how could he make Dean understand. He reached out, fingers only an inch away from the hunter’s shoulder. They twitched with the effort it took him not to touch. He wanted to grip the hand print, his hand print, burned into Dean’s shoulder. He wanted to yank him around, grip his collar, shove him into the wall. And then what? What could he do? What did he really want?How could he make Dean understand, make him forgive him?

The punches slowed as the pain melted into a constant dull ache. Stepping back from the wall he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a triple, then downed it, and poured another. He repeated the pattern until the pain started to fade slightly, his whole body slowly numbing. He raised a hand to fist into his shirt over the hard knot in his chest. “I love you Cas.” His lips moved, forming the words. Barely enough air escaped to make them heard, even to his own ears.

But Cas heard them. Tears spilled down his cheeks and his chest caught fire. But it was a cold fire, burning like the touch of dry ice. Love. Dean loved him. His eyes slid to the hand at Dean’s chest. No, not his chest. His heart. Castiel lifted his own hand to lay it gently over his own. Was that was the feeling was? Love. He loved Dean Winchester. But why had it changed? Why did it hurt now?

“Castiel. I’m sorry.” Dean’s words came quickly, breathy and shaken. “I should have been there for you man. I shouldn’t have asked for so much when you were the one who needed the help. I’m so sorry I let you down man.” Tears flowed freely as he thought about all the times since the fall of Lucifer that he had asked. No, not asked, demanded. All the times he had demanded Castiel’s help, never once did he offer to help in return. Maybe this wasn’t Castiel’s fault at all. Maybe it had been his. Maybe if he hadn’t given up the life, if he hadn’t gone to Lisa and hidden away when Sam jumped into the cage, then he could have been there for Castiel from the get go. Then maybe none of this would be happening. “I love you Cas.” He said again. But it was too late now. Far too late.

“No Dean, I am the one who is sorry.” Castiel mumbled, though his voice was kept from Dean’s ears. He wanted there to be another way. But there wasn’t. This was it. And though he knew it might hurt Dean now, it would be better in the long run. It was too late now. Far too late.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt; endverse destiel, smut, dirty talk, cas' first boner when he sees dean with a girl, dean help him.

Cas wandered the camp, stopping occasionally to speak with familiar faces. They had been here only a week, but already the number of refugees was growing beyond what they could support. They'd find a way though. The only other option was leaving them out for the Croats. And no one was willing to do that. They'd all make sacrifices, double, even triple up for sleeping arrangements, and stretch their dwindling supplies thinner. Anything to keep as many alive and human as possible. And wasn't that another problem. Human. He was human now. He had felt his grace leaving him, but there was nothing he could do. There were people he needed to help, and he had to put his own problems away. So long as he was able-bodied, his issues could wait.

Chuck was the only one n camp who noticed Castiel’s growing confusion as each day he was faced with new things he was required to do to survive that had never been explained to him. So Chuck took it upon himself to help Cas when he could. This lead to Castiel drinking quite a bit. It numbed his pain, though he still had a tolerance level above human average. He could drink Chuck under the table and still only be pleasantly buzzed. He liked the lack of feeling it caused though. It made all the sparks of emotion he was starting to feel, and all the strange things his vessel – no, his body – had begun to do.

Camp Chitaqua was a fair sized camp, but it was still easy to lose someone on occasion. Castiel was searching for Dean. Chuck had sent him to ask about their next move. They needed more supplies, and Chuck had mapped out a few smaller towns they could raid. He had been running around on Chuck’s orders for the whole week. Dean was too busy with command to deal with him, and Chuck appreciated the help. He didn’t have the time himself to seek out the people he needed to talk not, not while he was still taking inventory and head counts.

Cas found his way to Dean’s cabin, knocking. He heard no sound within, so carefully, he opened the door, sticking his head in. “Dean?” He called out tentatively, taking a step inside. “Dean? Chuck needs to speak with you” He called out again. But there was no reply. He had been told Dean would be here. So he stepped in further, taking a look around. And that was when he heard it. A low moan. But it was definitively female. Curious, Castiel padded forward, keeping quiet as he made his way to the closed door. When he got close enough, he realized that the door wasn’t completely closed. There was a small crack to look through.

Putting his eye to the crack, he narrowed his eyes in confusion before they widened in shock when his mind made sense of what he was seeing. Deans back was to him, and he was naked. All he could see of the woman inside was her mop of frazzled hair where he had her head buried in Dean’s shoulder, and her legs wrapped around his hips where he was steadily thrusting into her.

He whipped himself away from the door, trembling in some feeling he didn’t understand. A heavy warmth was building in his lower body, and the flesh between his legs had begun to harden. Quietly as he could he made his way out of the cabin, not stopping to talk or even acknowledge anyone as he quickly walked to his own cabin. The swinging weight between his legs was distracting and difficult. Each step drew the material of his pants against the sensitive skin, making it worse as he went. Finally, when he got to his cabin he threw himself inside, flopping down onto the bed on his stomach. But the weight of his body pressed him down painfully, so he rolled over. Putting hands to his eyes he let out a frustrated shout. He wanted to go to Chuck to ask about this, but something him was telling him that he shouldn’t. That this was something he shouldn’t tell others about. He was so confused.

“Hey, I’ll see you later at the meeting.” Lana said over her shoulder as she left. Dean ran a hand through his mussed hair, then down over his face. He had hoped the break with Lana would help him clear his head and relieve some of his tension. But all it had done was tire him out. Sighing, he made his way out to camp. He needed to talk to Cas and Chuck about their next move.

Everyone waved or nodded to him as he went by, and he nodded back, smiling at the women, and some of the men as well. He finally found Chuck holed up in the storehouse, counting toilet paper. “Hey man, how are things?” He asked, startling Chuck out of his zone. “Oh, hey Dean, whats up?” Chuk jotted down his numbers before stepping closer. “What did you think of my plans? And hey, where’d Cas get to?” The prophet’s eyes darted around him to confirm the lack of the angel-turned-human. “What? Cas? What plans?” Dean tilted his head in confusion, a habit he had picked up from Cas. “I haven’t seen Cas, I came here to ask you if you had anything worked out on where to strike next.” Chuck frowned, shaking his head. “I sent Cas out to find you and talk to you about what I’d come up with a half hour or so ago.” Dean let out a long breath. “Alright, I’ll go find him.”

He made his way around camp, asking if anyone had seen his old friend. A few had mentioned seeing him heading to his cabin, that he had looked shell-shocked, and a bit flushed. Dean wondered if Cas had just gotten sick or something. When he finally made it to Castiel’s door, brushing off all the people who wanted to talk to him as he went, he hesitated. He was worried for his friend. Knocking, he yelled out. “Cas? Hey, Cas, you in there?” “Go away.” Was the muffled reply. “Cas, man, whats going on?” He shouldered the door open, looking around inside and spotting Castiel curled up on his cot.

“Cas, what’s wrong?” Concern laced his tone as he made his way over. “No! Don’t look!” Cas cried out as Dean put a hand on his shoulder. Frowning, Dean turned his friend onto his back, which caused Castiel to whimper, as if he were in pain. He quickly scanned his friend’s body, but he couldn’t see anything wrong. Then his brain caught up and his eyes drifted to the raging hard-on his friend was sporting. At first he was confused, thinking that couldn’t be the issue, until he looked into Cas’s face and saw embarrassment, shame and confusion. Then it hit him. His friend was human now. But that didn’t mean he knew about being human.

“Cas, hey, its ok man. This kind of thing happens, there is nothing to freak out about.” He tried to reassure his friend, but Cas just shook his head and wouldn’t look at him directly. A lot could be said about Dean’s reasoning skills. He knew he was slow sometimes. But usually, he was pretty observant, and he was smart enough to put the pieces together. Cas had been sent to find him over a half hour ago. Right around the time he had been ‘taking a break’ with Lana. Cas never made contact, and had disappeared looking shocked and sick. And now Cas was clearly very painfully aroused, and refusing to look at Dean. The pieces clicked, and Dean had a moment of 'duh Dean'.

“Hey, Cas, I’m not gonna get mad at you or anything, but did you see me and Lana earlier?” He asked softly. Cas’s eyes darted to him, then quickly away, before he nodded, the shame flooding him further. Dean huffed out a laugh, gripping Cas’s shoulder. “Hey man, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were into Lana. I’d have left her alone if I’d knew.” Castiel’s head turned slowly, a look of pure shock there, before he blanked, completely closed off from Dean. And once again, a moment of 'duh Dean' hit him as his brain quickly catalogued and resorted all the times Cas had saved his life. All the long, intense stares, and the serious personal space issue he had with the hunter. Dead could have kicked himself for not figuring it out immediately.

“Cas?” He rubbed a hand down his face, not sure how to say this. “Cas, do you… do you like me?” Immediately a sardonic smile flitted across his friend’s face. “Obviously I like you Dean, after everything I’ve done, I’d have thought that was obvious.” Cas’s voice held steady as he tried to figure out where this was going. “No, Cas… I mean… do you, like, want… me?” He was trying to phrase it in a way that would make sense, without potential for creating a serious chick-flick moment. He knew he got through when Castiel’s cheeks flamed bright red, and His friend tried to roll over onto his side again. Chuckling, Dean tightened his grip, keeping Cas on his back. After a full minute, Cas looked at him again, and nodded.

“Ok. So. This..” he motioned to the hard-on, which hadn’t reduced at all during their talk, “is because of me?” He tried to keep the pride out of his voice, but probably failed. He had caused the first erection of a several millennia old former angel. There was something to be said for that. Cas just nodded again. “Ok.”

Cas squirmed slightly. He wasn’t sure why, but the hand on his shoulder, and having Dean leaning over like this, holding him in place, was only making his flesh throb, and the warmth in his stomach spread until he could feel the heat from head to toe. Finally, he scrunched his eyes shut, and a small whimper escaped his throat.

“Hey, its ok Cas. Its ok. I’ll take care of you.” Castiel only had a moment to be confused before Dean was palming him through his pants, making him arch his back and let out a long, deep groan. “D-dean.” He gasped as Dean’s hand pressed against him, rubbing gently.”Shh, its ok, I’ve got you.” And that was Dean’s breath on his neck as he settled down next to Cas, pressing along his side. “I’ve got you Angel.” Cas wanted to correct him, but all that would come out were groans and growls. He nearly screamed in frustration when Dean’s hand lifted slightly, but it was cut short by a low growl as Dean slipped his pants down enough to free him, before grasping him firmly, pumping his hand lazily, a slight twist added at the top. Cas was panting and whimpering, wanting more.

“That’s it Angel. Just enjoy it.” Dean’s hot breath in his ear made Cas writhe. “Like this Angel? Like me jacking you off for your first time?” Dean moaned into him, rutting into his side as Cas’s own raised, thrusting himself into Dean’s hand, trying to catch a rhythm, trying to go faster, to get more pressure. Cas growled as Dean eased off, making the hunter chuckle. Then Dean upped the pace, thumbing the tip of his cock at each upstroke. Cas shouted out his approval of the change in pace. Then he heard the sound of a zipper, and Dean was grabbing one of his hands, moving it until he felt something hot and silky smooth against his fingers. He turned his head slightly, trying to focus his eyes to see. Dean had his own erection out, and was wrapping Cas’s hand around it. He began to thrust into Cas’s hand while still working on Cas himself. “Fuck Cas… hands so soft, feels good. Like this? Like me fucking your hand while I’m jerking you off?” Dean grunted out. But it wasn’t enough for Dean. Not nearly enough.

Cas found himself pushed flat again, and he keened with the loss of Dean’s hand, but then Dean settled his weight onto Cas, jeans pushed to his knees. He slotted their cocks together, and began rutting against Cas. “Fuck Angel, you’re so hot.” Cas cried out as Dean nipped at his ear, drawing the lobe between his lips and sucking gently. Both men growled as they moved, finding a rhythm. Dean moved a hand up to Cas’s mouth. “Lick it Cas.” He ordered, moving to stare down at his angel. Tentative, unsure, but wanting to please Dean and keep whatever this was from stopping, Cas dragged his tongue across the palm. Dean groaned appreciatively, then snaked the hand down between them to grasp them together, working his slicked hand up and down their lengths.

“Damn Angel, so fuckin’ hot.” He growled out before leaning in to catch Cas’s bottom lips between his teeth. Castiel was so far gone, he was barely registering individual sensations or actions. He was keening and growling and moaning, trying to tell Dean without words to keep going. And Dean obliged. He pumped their cocks faster, harder, adding in little twists at the top, and squeezing on the down stroke. “Cas, Angel, so good, so fuckin’ good, feels so good.” Cas could only nod, before his lips were crushed against Dean’s , and a tongue was plunging into his mouth, exploring, forcing his jaw open as he opened himself to the onslaught. “Fuck Angel, you love this, don’t you? My hand around us, pressing our cocks together, jacking us off. Love the feeling of me on you.” Cas whimpered, hips thrusting in time with Dean’s hand, the weight in his lower body building quickly.

“D-dean…. Dean… please…” He managed to get out. “Mmm, you close Angel? That’s right, you come for me Angel.” His hand picked up the pace, and he ground himself down on Cas, increasing the friction. He caught Cas’s mouth again, licking into it, sucking Cas’s tongue, before moving to mouth along the stubble covered jaw, then down his neck to the junction at the shoulder. He felt Cas’s body shaking and squirming under him, felt him coming undone. “Come for me Angel, come on, just let go Angel.” He bit down, sucking at the flesh in his mouth. Cas screamed his release to the ceiling, his hands scrabbling at the cot, the air, and finally Dean’s shoulders for something to ground him. Dean followed a couple of short strokes later, grunting around him mouthful of flesh.

When both men were spent, Dean rolled off, pulling his shirt off and tossing it away, before reaching over to do the same for Castiel. The other man was completely blissed out, struggling to keep conscious. Dean moved to whisper into Cas’s ear. “Go to sleep Angel. And next time you have a problem, you should come find me.” Cas nodded slightly before his eyes slipped closed and sleep overtook him.

Dean relaxed for a few minutes, realizing that all of his stress and physical tension was gone. Maybe he should come find Cas when he had a problem to, he thought to himself with a smile. Then he let out a sigh, and rolled of the cot, careful not to wake Cas as he left. He still had a camp to run after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt; Sabriel marriage proposal

The first thing Dean saw when he burst into Sammy’s room was a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs. “Ugh, dude, gross!” He shouted, turning away quickly.

“Dean? What the hell man? Ever heard of knocking?” Sam groused sleepily from the bed, slowly extracting himself from the body he was curled around.

“I did, you weren’t answering. We’ve got a case, we need to go.” He grumbled. He was trying to get the picture of his brother’s ass out of his head. Or possibly the ass of whoever his brother was with. Which made something click into a place. “Oh, dude, I didn’t know you fucked dudes!”

“Not ‘dudes’ Deano, just me.” Came a voice Dean was wishing wasn’t who he thought it was.

“Gabe, seriously?” Sam frowned down at his archangel, cuffing the side of his head. He hopped off the bed, looking around for his clothes, before remembering that Gabriel had zapped them naked last night. “Uh, Gabe? Clothes?”

“Aww, but Sam-I-Am, you look so much better without.” The trickster appraised him with his typical smirk, a sucker appearing in his hand which he licked suggestively.

“Gabe!” Sam shot him his patented bitchface.

“Fine!” With a snap of fingers Sam was dressed, and also clean.

“Thank you Gabriel.” His expression softened as he looked at his lover.

“Ok, can we go now?” Dean turned to look at them, but shouted and covered his eyes. Gabriel was still naked, spread out on the bed, doing obscene things to his candy. “Sammy? Can we please just go?” Dean gritted his teeth, feeling behind him for the door before running out, probably to go freak out in the car.

Sam chuckled, grabbing his coat, freezing when he caught a flash of gold on his left hand. Turning to Gabriel, he held the hand up. “Uh Gabe… why am I wearing an engagement ring?” Because with its thin gold band dotted with diamonds, there was nothing else it could be.

“Isn’t it obvious Samsquatch?” Gabriel said with a grin, before disappearing with a snap of his fingers. Sam just stumbled out to the car, sitting down in a confused, but excited huff.

Dean fixed him with a disgusted stare. “Man, there is not enough brain bleach in the world to get that image out of my head. Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were fucking at asshole?” He reached over to shake Sammy, who was still in a daze. “So what? Is it just the sex? Or are you, I dunno, boyfriends or whatever?”

“I uh….” Sam stammered. “I think…. I think we’re fiancés…” He held his hand up to show Dean the ring.

“Wait what? What the fuck? Your engaged to an archangel?” Dean freaked out.

“Yeah… I guess…” Sam mumbled, a small smile threatening to break across his face. He was engaged to Gabriel. Holy shit.


End file.
